


Perfect / Not Love

by VisibleParenthesis



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, Byleth & Sothis dynamic is to die for tbh, Emotional Sex, F/M, Face-Fucking, Groping, Kissing, Oral Sex, Petra and Edelgard aren't involved in the sex, Size Difference, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, just there for a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24508822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisibleParenthesis/pseuds/VisibleParenthesis
Summary: It wasn’tattractionthat they shared, but something else. It was juvenile, and comfortable, and safe when so little else was for them. When there were schemes and death and monsters and secrets. They were a second home to each other, with nothing to hide, or that could ever be hidden, unless they really wanted to. Their relationship was a sentence in silence, a spark that lit a campfire, a jab returned in equal measures of petty and pointless.Which is why Byleth knew he wasn’treallyrisking all of that when he decided Sothis needed to be shut up....He kissed her.In which Byleth and Sothis take turns toying with each other more intimately than they're used to.
Relationships: Male My Unit | Byleth/Sothis, My Unit | Byleth/Sothis
Comments: 2
Kudos: 78





	Perfect / Not Love

**Author's Note:**

> apparently people don't usually tag if their byleth is male or female? wild. anyways, have this

Sothis’ rambling, teasing, hassling, and questions were never exactly annoying, but constantly rode the line between endearing and too far. _Nagging_ was perhaps the perfect word for it. Clothes rustling, a hand on her hip, the other pointing out for all the small condescensions, and something far fonder while she floated along cross-legged for bits of prideful praise, or surprising bursts of empathy.

If Byleth ever returned those affectations though, it spurred her on in something that clearly felt like competition to Sothis when arguing, or caused some fierce blush to appear when he shot back about the fond feelings they both pretended not to have for all the students (and each other).

His silence was often something careful, holding back thoughts that felt too biting, or too honest. Vulnerability was not something he cared for, and had little place in the life of a young career mercenary. It wasn’t _attraction_ that they shared, but something else. It was juvenile, and comfortable, and safe when so little else was for them. When there were schemes and death and monsters and secrets. They were a second home to each other, with nothing to hide, or that could ever be hidden, unless they really wanted to. Their relationship was a sentence in silence, a spark that lit a campfire, a jab returned in equal measures of petty and pointless.

Which is why Byleth knew he wasn’t _really_ risking all of that when he decided Sothis needed to be shut up.

“And another thing!” Sothis was in the middle of saying in their room, when he closed the distance in an instant. Her brow shot up but she kept speaking, “I can’t remember the last time you--”

He kissed her.

Byleth hooked a gloveless hand around to the back of her head, lost in the luxurious, wild, ridiculous tangle of green and braids and bedhead, her entire body not perfectly material or bound in the same way as anything else, but just as solid to him. She was light, easy to guide forward and hold in place for a few moments as his lips pressed against hers. Sothis’ brow shot higher, and she gasped into the kiss, blushing furiously as she pushed off, but still close enough that his hand lingered in her hair.

“Wh-what was that!?” she sputtered. “Just because you tire of being scolded for your rudeness so often doesn’t mean you can try to shut me--”

He moved closer again, breath to her chin, since she insisted on hovering just slightly higher than he stood, despite their stark difference in size. She didn’t shy away as he spoke.

“Quiet.”

It wasn’t brute force. She could back away now, and they’d pretend it was only the last in a long line of strange gambits to throw the other off.

Sothis growled. “I will be quiet only when I wish to be.”

And pressed her head forward, a smooth, thin hand grabbing at his chin to tilt his head backward. The motion of her kiss was overeager, and at first more like smashing their faces together, so it was fortunate that she was so supernaturally light. Still, her lips felt solid to him, as did her arm crooking around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, as did the legs that wrapped around his torso. Voluminous fabric hugged at every side, curtains of green hair obscuring his vision. Sothis would have nothing less than his fullest attention in this kiss, and she made quick work of deepening it, her tongue pressing against his lips before he met it with his own.

Altogether the moment was sloppy and needy, so he met her enthusiasm with his own, the hand not buried in her hair coming around and trailing down the small of her back. Firm, nails tracing lines to her backside.

She moaned openly, one of her hands shooting to catch his wrist and pull it away. _Not yet_ , she said without words. They broke apart for air, and though she didn’t really need it, he still did. It was like a facsimile of breathing for her, shoulders heaving in a way accented with drama and bravado. 

The truth was that for all the contact they’d shared, joking nights of holding onto each other in the bed and sharing in one another’s not-warmth - the slowed beating of a cold heart and her own, fake but solid - that they’d never actually kissed. He’d held her close like a particularly ticklish, fluffy teddy bear, and she’d rubbed circles against his back before dangling limbs lazily over his own, breath steady in his ear, along his neck, when his were stifled and arrhythmic and the slightest bit panicked in the night.

The truth was that for all the sleepless nights they’d shared under the moon, at the docks, grading papers and passing comments, that they’d never kissed.

Her eyes now asked why they never had before, and every part of him seemed to agree.

“More.” She said at once, and he kissed her again, lingering and bringing up the hand along her back to her shoulders, dragging the girl a little lower to the ground. There was no resistance when he brought her body closer, still floating off the ground. The goddess’ pathetic, unashamed whine when he broke away was quickly replaced by a gasp when his lips moved along to the bottom of her chin, then sucked at the too-sweet too-soft skin of her neck. 

He repositioned her, away from the desk they’d been standing against and began to guide her towards the wall opposite the door. Golden afternoon light bathed them in a panel of warmth, and framed every part of her in a heavenly light. Sothis purred in his hold. She’d accept nothing less.

“More,” she half-commanded, half-stuttered. “I command more from my humble worshiper. From you, the object of my blessings.” Her words were whispers meant to be lost in the air, and mingled with the mindless haze filling his brain.

After more work than he’d have liked, he managed to disentangle his hand from her hair, and brought it against her chest, pushing back, palm open, fingertips brushing against her collarbones and the base of her neck. Together, they moved weightlessly to the wall, where he applied pressure and pinned her, legs no longer bound around him. The other hand came away, his attention no longer on her neck, which now bore the marks of his presence.

Sothis’ legs were bare, and for her size was plenty to grab hold of. The proportions felt perfect, and as his free hand began to navigate her, squeezing where it felt right. Her eyes tracked the hand as his own did - himself more to appreciate the sight alongside the feeling, and her in anticipation - as rough palm and fingertips traced up from the back of the bottom of her calves, to her thighs - which gave just so under the pressure - and then, gliding, pushed up to the inside of her thigh.

Her breath was fast, chest shifting beneath the palm that pinned her as his fingers worked beneath the thick, dark blue and gold fabrics that protected those other parts of her. She sighed in contentment and leaned against the touch while he navigated by feel. Byleth traced the bend where her leg met stomach, then moved inwards, to a tidy patch of hair. 

Sothis’ arms wrapped around his neck, head tilted forward, lips turned up in a confident smile as she cooed. “Having trouble fi--”

He closed the distance one more time and pushed until her head was pressed against the brick behind her. His tongue worked its way into her mouth, and he could _feel_ the scorn working its way through her body. The nails on his neck dug in slightly. Byleth hissed, but it was a good pain, and somewhere in the middle of it all he managed to remember to move the hand navigating her warm skin south enough to find her profoundly wet slit. He worked a callused thumb against her clit, forcing her to gasp wider, which he took advantage of by letting go of the kiss.

“Nope,” was his simple answer.

“I,” she began, when his index finger slid into her pussy. “Will remember this. Do not think I don’t know how to quiet you as well.”

It wasn’t hard to work the middle finger into her, in and out, insides tight and dripping down his hand. Sothis groaned, but couldn’t bury the noise with his hand pinning her to the wall. “Because I’m so loud, right?”

“Ugh, you will be, you little cretin.” Her hips ground against his hand, striving to get more friction.

Byleth figured he had her wrapped around the need for his fingers well enough by now, and let the hand pinning her go. The exact workings of Sothis’ garments were a mystery - every strip of fabric seemed bound to another, and the best he could work out was that pulling on any of it would pull her along too. Disrobing her properly would have to wait another day. Instead, there were two windows of exposed skin on either side of her chest that served as an excellent entry point, seated around carefully woven fabric.

He could have easily grabbed at a breast through the fabric, but her clothes billowed, and were thick. Direct contact was far better for drawing out the noises he wanted to hear. The free hand slipped through to her left breast, and despite the fact that his fingers were working _inside_ of her, _that_ was what seemed to scandalize Sothis.

“Mmf, if you’re going to- to offer worship, it had b-better be with your mouth, as well.” Her breasts were pert and small, perfect little palmfuls he could cup entirely. Two fingertips pinched at her nipple, and the embarrassment radiating from her only seemed to increase. But before she could respond, he offered conciliations. 

“I can’t-- figure out how to get your stupid dress thing off.”

“Do I… have to do… everything myself?” she huffed. A hand slipped from his neck and tucked furiously behind her, disappearing in that mess of green before it sounded like something unclasped, and an instant later the fabric around her uncoiled, falling down below her shoulders, most of it hanging up on the side still clinging to him.

Her chest was bare, two little pink dots at the center of her little lumps, torso barely bending in and out in the picture of beauty. Aside from her waist and one forearm, every part of her was exposed. She blushed under the attention, his fingers slowing. He made up for it subconsciously by hooking them a little, pressing against her walls in a different way.

“Perfect,” Byleth breathed. She only harrumphed, cut short by another whimper.

Her body shook, and everything told him it’d been long enough. Before finishing her off, he did as requested and leaned down, pressing a kiss against the center of her chest just to feel the warmth of her skin against his face, then moved to the left breast, which was already rigid. It was worth slowing down, Byleth thought, as his tongue circled and flicked against her nipple. Bent over against him, Sothis cycled between hissing threats of reparations and never-quite direct enough begging to ‘end this damnable thing’.

Coming away one last time, he groped at her breast and squeezed, getting into a comfortable enough position that he could speed up his fingering without being rough or unpleasant. Fast alone wasn’t enough, it had to actually _feel_ good too.

“Still okay?” He grunted. A nod, then a hand in his hair and the other coming to squeeze the arm working her was his response. Her needy noises were high pitched, but occasionally something like ‘Byleth’ slipped through as he felt her body get tenser and hotter.

“Byleth!” she managed fully once, uncompromising.

And then, she seized, insides locked around his two fingers, warmth squeezing hard and dripping down along his hand while her shaking legs dangled in the air. It was a mercy he was the only one that could hear her, but that release would be something he dreamed about for nights to come.

… 

Less than half a minute later, he pulled out slowly, fingers dripping wet. Sothis’ strange jade eyes were bright and distracted, but bore into his own nonetheless. It was impossible to know what exactly that meant until she began to float downwards some, still ‘catching’ her breath and taking the wrist that had worked against her into a slender hand. Her eyes were aimed straight ahead now as she spoke, on nothing in particular.

“I… should… you, then…” and took those fingers into her mouth, tongue swirling. Byleth sucked in a breath at the thought.

“Not here,” he answered. “They may not be able to hear you, but they’d definitely hear me.”

She groaned in complaint at having to wait, bobbing slightly on those fingers, before popping off to speak. “How absurd. You couldn’t possibly bite down on a pillow?”

Byleth sighed, changing tact. “If we go out to the woods, you’ll get to hear me for yourself.”

At that, the pout seemed to go away, but was replaced with haughty impatience. It was only sort of a front, it was easy to tell. “Then you’d best find a suitable location, or I might lose interest.”

Even if it was all bluster, Byleth wasted no time heading out.

* * *

On the way out, he passed Petra and Edelgard. Both were in outerwear, the former wearing a tank-top and shorts that left her movements free, and the latter in sweatpants and a thin, white, long sleeve tee. They were off to do stretches and cardio, and made an only slightly nervous offer for him to join them.

Frankly, he was only a couple years older than them, and no matter how much alleged authority the church had given him, it seemed to amount to very little when it came to how readily his students treated him as an equal or tutor - someone with much to offer, but never so far removed that he was unapproachable or intimidating.

It wasn’t that he was unaware both girls seemed to admire him for more than just battlefield tactics and, what was in his opinion, infinite patience, just that commitment was hardly an option, and both were in extreme need of something more than the kinds of dalliances he’d want from them. While they continued some conversation, it occurred to him that it was probably some sort of small miracle he’d managed to hold back from saying anything with either of them.

Petra’s unfamiliarity with the land and, to a lesser extent, the language, made it natural for them to spend time together after class for supplemental lessons. They’d hunted together sometimes, and just as she’d taught more effective maneuvers for the execution of cornered beasts, he’d trained her in tracking. Together they became frayed and dirty in the timeless grasp of the wild; skinning and cooking their catches, eating to full before returning sometime after midnight, in the wet and hazy hours of dawn before the knights had even woken for drills, and managing to be clean just before class.

That too, was natural. It was, however, _less_ natural, in the way that sometimes things weren’t meant for subtlety, when one day after classes the sun-kissed, incredibly toned huntress offered some exchange of culture that involved him seeing _all_ of her tattoos, and an explanation of what each meant. It was hard to interpret it as anything else, but he’d restrainedly, politely, precisely refused.

And Edelgard was the picture of poise and confidence at almost all times. The only times she was less than that was when attempting to off-set the rather frenetic exchanges the Eagles could have at the drop of a hat once everyone came together. When it came to requests for extra tutoring and direct assistance with targeted muscle exercises, that too felt natural given her drive to succeed and plain ambitions. After hard nights of working together, her face flustered, stray strands of almost always otherwise perfect hair sticking to her face, eyes bright and hungry, it was hard to ignore what he felt when she concluded with, “Thank you, my teacher.”

There were times in the early morning when they crossed paths, sleepless and upset, and she would provide some insight to help him in the same way he would her, and gloved fingers lingered in his own for just a moment too long, only one degree removed from each other, where it felt like an inevitability that he would fall for the Princess at her command the same way the nation one day would. They split wood for fires, working on the force and precision of their axe swings, silent together and filling the air with one another all the same, determined to grab some kind of future for themselves as individuals no matter what.

But still.

For now.

It didn’t feel right, or safe, to admit anything at all. And somehow Sothis’ awkward, open, complete whiplash of hurried admonishments managed to keep him on task. With a wave they parted ways, and her obnoxious comments turned to teasing more and more the further they got from the Monastery, keeping the mood alive enough all the while.

Having walked far away, they arrived at a small clearing of mostly flat grass with plenty of trees on any given side. With a mostly still hard cock, Byleth let out a breath.

“Finally?” Sothis intoned.

“Finally,” he answered, dipping a hand into the fold of his pants and pulling it free. The cool air was something of a shock at first, but Sothis was eager in a way he’d never really expected, making his rather average cock feel bigger in the hand that grabbed about halfway down the shaft as soon as it was free. He grunted once and looked down at the girl floating along, her legs tucked in below, apparently very focused on her work. Sothis licked her lips, and began to stroke back and forth. Again, for all the eagerness, he could have never expected treatment so patient and tender.

It still wasn’t really attraction that carried between them. There was no use in lying to one another, after all. Still, it was good to have relief, and to disappear into someone else’s touch and not-love for a time.

The green-haired girl cooed again, and her other hand reached up to the hem of his pants, tugging down with an admonishing frown. “This is _hardly_ appropriate. I demand to see an equal amount of you, as well. And-- to touch it.”

“Alright.” According to the face she made, his response had been lacking. Still, as soon as he’d undone the belt buckle, her thumbs hooked themselves into either side of his pants and underwear, and both slid down. While he stepped out of the, she was clearly taking the chance to admire him in the same way he had her.

Technically, just as her legs were a sight he saw quite regularly, he’d dressed and undressed fully in front of her plenty before. There wasn’t a single scar on his body that she hadn’t been able to witness, even the ones that sometimes still burned. The most prominent of them was the row of jagged lines along his right outer thigh, where a wolf-like monster had gotten to him when he was still young. A life of walking, running, and climbing had made his legs thicker than most others’.

She hummed in approval, probably, and took his cock in one hand again, stroking a bit firmer, beginning to kiss at some of the scars, starting from his calves and working around, trading hands at one point a bit awkwardly. It was hard to tell, but he thought she was whispering something too. The attention was steady, and forced him to lean back against a nearby tree with what was no doubt a small, stupid smile on his face.

“You look lovely,” she said openly, and just as her words had disappeared in the air before, these seemed to suffuse themselves with the earth; soft and firm in an incontrovertible, always-there way.

“You too,” he returned. She hummed softly again, and licked her lips once more.

Sothis’ lips were sweet and careful, planted against the tip of his cock in a wet kiss. She popped her lips pulling off while he groaned, burying a hand through her hair, pulling just so at her scalp to make sure she stayed close.

Sothis laughed, and acquiesced to his unspoken needs, planting another kiss, and then another along the underside of his cock, moving to the back and licking at his balls for a time. He was fully erect as her tongue teased along the side, pulling back to the front again. She opened her mouth more, and then took the head of his cock in, sucking and pressing her tongue against the slit, lapping at the precum that was starting to form.

The girl adjusted her position, one hand placed against the bottom of his chest to push off when she moved her lips down a little farther, the other now working the back end of his shaft, down to the base. How she’d been something of a messy disaster when it came to kissing but so perfect at this was beyond him, but hardly mattered in his head as another groan escaped, deep and low. She moaned too, onto his cock, almost definitely some kind of indulgence on her part.

Goddess, when had his dead heart last beat so hard?

She continued to move back and forth, steadily taking more and more of him into her tight lips, mouth stretched some just to do it. He filled her up, he could feel, the girl’s tongue struggling to move around his cock, and he’d never thought to be grateful for the fact that Sothis didn’t actually need to breathe before this point. She moaned again, halfway down his cock, and he hissed. Holding onto a load and not blowing it early was so much harder to do without being the one in control.

Maybe it was worth it though, to take a chance and look down. Sothis’ jade eyes were looking up with something barely even smug - but caring and questioning and insecure. Byleth leaned a little harder against the tree, free hand moving to caress her cheek, pressing against her skin, his own eyes full of rare gratitude and plain, unfiltered _need_.

“You’re doing great,” he said, and meant it fully.

Her eyes got a little brighter with that, and managed to catch the steadily gold-turning orange light of the sunset in a way that should have been impossible. She became emboldened, too, closing her eyes, and began to move a bit faster, free hand moving off his shaft entirely. Sothis’ throat tickled against the head of his cock now, a wall that she seemed determined to push past. Unable to gag, saliva dripped down her lips and stuck to her face in messy strings. Of course this was messy too. He just hadn’t noticed it yet.

Three-fourths the way down, his cock pressed against her throat regularly, his low groans and half-swears disappearing in the noise of the forest. Her free hand was wrapped around a thigh now, helping to bring her a little deeper each time. His own hand, holding onto her hair, gripped tighter, while the other moved backwards from her cheek, brushing against the underside of one pointed ear and digging into the base of her neck. Both pulled in time with her own motions to force himself deeper.

Before long, his body felt unreal, moved by pleasure beyond anything he’d experienced on one night stands and lewd evenings with other mercenaries. With hard work, his cock had managed to fit down to the base, Sothis’ nose pressing against his crotch. Buried in her throat, Sothis' rumbling, open moaning was driving him nuts, spit dripping down his balls as he took a firm hold of her. The girl’s eyes stared up, only slightly concerned as he began to thrust, fucking her face.

It was bliss-- the tongue still jammed against the underside of his cock, balls slapping against her chin, her mouth warm and throat tight. He began to huff. “I’m almost--” it was a late warning, as a few seconds later rope after rope shot out of him. She sputtered, a guttural, unprepared noise as it filled her mouth too and dribbled past her lips as well. She made no attempts to move off, though, and he thrust a few more times before being fully spent.

Her mouth was still full of him, instinctual attempts to swallow awkward and ineffective, and when he pulled out - breathless - strands of white stuck to the length of his cock before breaking off, dropping onto her chin and chest.

The girl’s jaw was a mess, with only a few stray dots of white staining the skin and fabric of her heaving chest. Some of it had gotten on his forearm as well, having cupped her the whole time, but that hardly mattered. The palm grabbing at the base of her neck came forward, and stroked a cheek before tilting her head back and wedging an opening in the long collar of fabric around her throat. He slipped his steadily deflating cock in there, and then wiped himself clean, feeling her swallow against it. Putting his prim, teasing savior in such a state was beyond pleasing, and he burned her expressions into his mind.

And again, she made no attempts to deny him that pleasure. “I… expect that next time, you’ll put your own mouth to similarly good use, hm?”

“Damn,” he gasped. “Sure, whatever you want.”

He was too spent to possibly worry about some kind of witty response. A few seconds later, and Sothis began to clean her face with those fancy robes, pulling them up and revealing her wet-again pussy. Byleth felt fair was fair.

“Maybe… right now?”

Sothis made a few more spirited wipes. “If you insist.” It was a wonder why she insisted on pretending not to want to strangle him between her thighs, but he’d play along, the same way she did. _Always_. She crossed her legs, and grinned. “Then… kneel, and take off that shirt while you’re at it.”

“Alright.”

Her expression at that response reflected a disappointment he didn’t intend to leave on her face for long. Time could be wound back, and in that moment it felt as though he’d be losing a lot of it here…

**Author's Note:**

> proooobably gonna do a second chapter of this, following up on that ending. subscribe if you want to? gonna be doing plenty of three houses content in the near future, mostly about various byleths of various genders.


End file.
